


Batter Up

by Kawaiicoyote



Series: Take Me Out (to the Ballgame) [1]
Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Awkward boys are awkward, Cute, Derek ISN'T grumpy, F/M, Fluffy, Human Derek Hale, M/M, Mild Language, No Hale Fire, jock!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 09:28:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kawaiicoyote/pseuds/Kawaiicoyote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles hates baseball but ends up going to a game with Scott and Allison and surprisingly starts to get into it when player Number 24 steps up to bat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Batter Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GeeGollyWiz13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeeGollyWiz13/gifts).



> You can completely blame this work on Tyler Hoechlin and his performance in Hall Pass (seriously, you all need to go watch that raunchy film for Hoechlin like I did)
> 
> This is kind of a rush job and unbeta'd so I apologize for that.

Stiles hates baseball. He could really care less if it’s the great American pastime. He really doesn’t get the sport at all with hitting a ball with a long stick and running around. Back in high school he’d been on the Lacrosse team. That has been his bread and butter, so of course ever other sport paled in comparison to him. Give him a sport where you had to be agile and quick on your toes, something challenging.

 So he has no idea why he let Scott and Allison badger him into attending the University’s first game of the season. He thinks it’s too hot outside, there’s no shade, the coke he’d bought at the concession stand already tastes flat beyond belief and the metal bench is burning his ass through his shorts. In all, it’s not doing anything to help his hatred of baseball.

The game is in full swing (heh, the thought mildly amuses him) and Stiles is completely miserable. Everyone around him is completely oblivious to that, even his best friend, who is standing on top of his metal bleacher cheering himself hoarse as one player slides onto home base successfully. Stiles is more concerned about the possibilities of getting a sunburn.

He startles a bit when Allison and Scott plop down on either side of him and Scott’s arm comes around his shoulder. Stiles raises an eyebrow at his traitorous best friend and Scott beams back with a full goofy puppy faced crooked chin smile.

“Stiles. Come _on_ dude!” Scott says clearly exasperated and shakes Stiles shoulders a bit. “At least try and have some fun! Our team is _obliterating_ those other guys!” Stiles can’t help but give a tiny smile, Scott’s is always infectious to him, has been ever since they were wee little ones.

A colorful flag with their college’s name and mascot stamped on either side slides right in front of his face and Stiles turns to look at Allison who waves it a little at him all while smiling. Its times like these he remembers why everyone back home calls her the long lost Disney princess.

“Come on, show a little support for our boys.” She says with a tiny pout and Stiles rolls his eyes and snatches the little flag out of her grasp. Allison beams victoriously then turns her attention back to the game. Stiles notes how she has plenty of school memorabilia to spare, she’s completely decked out in school spirit, from the matching shirt she and Scott are wearing, to the temporary tattoo on both her cheeks, he notes how the ribbons in her hair and her fingernails are their school colors. He never really thought Allison would be that into school spirit, or other sports besides archery.

Scott bumps his shoulder once more then rises from the bleacher to go back to his previous spot beside Allison, practically attached to the hip. It almost makes Stiles gag every time with the amount of sweetness they show for each other. Stiles is not bitter, he refuses to let himself be bitter. Okay, maybe it’s an itty bitty bit bitter, so sue him.

With a sigh a waves the flag and gives a halfhearted cheer when everyone else goes absolutely bat shit crazy as the next player steps up to the plate. He watches as the dude, number 24 with the name Hale emblazed above across his broad shoulders. Hale taps the bat to his cleats a few times and then takes his stance. Any other times Stiles would have been wondering if there was actually a point to tapping the bat to ones cleats, but now, now he finds himself swallowing hard and _staring_.

He stares at the long line of Hale’s back, watches as he rolls his shoulders once, can’t help himself for anything as his eyes travel down and stay down to gawk at the curve of Hale’s ass that is encased in tight white pants and_

Hale hits the ball with such force the crack of the bat against it jolts stiles out of his staring, physically jolts him out of his trance. And then Hale is running to first, and completely bypasses it. Stiles can’t help but feel adrenaline of his own pump through his system, his heart racing now as Hale rounds second base and _keeps going_.

The crows around him roars with cheers and encouragements, Allison and Scott beside him and jumping up and down and screaming and Stiles himself is gripping the little flag in his hands so hard it’s in danger of snapping in half.

He keeps watching as Hale rounds third, showing no signs of stopping, his kinda bow legs pumping hard and sheer concentration on his face. Stiles finally does snap his flag in half when the player makes a last minute decision to slide into home, the opposing team licking at his heels. There’s a breath stopping minute when the cloud of dust settles and a brief silence falls around them.

When umpire signals that he’s safe and indeed makes a home run Stiles shoots to his feet, flinging his arms above his head flag completely forgotten and ignores that his voice may be carrying over everyone else’s as he hollers and loses his shit to cling to Scott and Allison. They’re clearly surprised but quickly jump in with the celebrations.

When Hale rises from the plate he’d covered in thick red dirt and after taking his helmet off his shiny black hair sticks up every which way but Stiles thinks he makes it look more windswept than anything else. And then for a moment everything feels frozen when Hale’s eyes drift up into the stands and for just a moment Stiles swears that their eyes make contact and Hale _smiles_ at him, bright and white with two front teeth that remind him of a bunny. It’s only a moment and then his other teammates are pulling him into the dugout and clapping him on the shoulder and ruffling his unkempt hair even more. Stiles slumps back down onto the burning hot bleacher with a sigh and wonders if he was only imagining things.

After the game everyone starts piling into the field, some kind of celebration and get together. Stiles finds himself wanting to get out of the sun and starts to remember the four page paper he’s got due midweek then he’s pretty sure that he’s got some kind of exam coming up but for the life of him can’t remember in _what_ without looking at his planner. But all chances of him fleeing to the exits is taken away when Scott and Allison loop their arms into either of his on each side and start leading him to the field, all while Scott offers him some cotton candy off the enormous wad of it that’s wrapped around a stick. Stiles rolls his eyes and tears a hunk of the spun sugar and stuffs it into his mouth.

They’re deep into the crowd the three of them deciding if they want to go out to eat or do something, Stiles already thinking he’ll break away and let the other two have a date because he is an _awesome friend_ like that, when something catches Stiles eye. He turns and only a few feet away stands number 24 and Stiles feels his face heat up all over, though after a second he wonders if that’s the just onset of the sunburn he’s undoubtedly developed while sitting in the stands. And the to make things awkward, number 24 chooses that exact moment to turn around and look directly at Stiles, a wide smile slowly spreading across his face that’s mostly hidden by the bill of his baseball cap. Stiles swallows hard and gives him a wobbly smile, that probably makes him look like he’s having facial spasms, in return.

Allison slides up next to Stiles giving him a knowing grin as she munches on her bag of popcorn that’s materialized out of nowhere, not that he was exactly paying attention.

“So, Derek Hale, huh?” She asks with an all too innocent giggle and Stiles tears his eyes away from number 24, _Derek_ Hale, to glare at her, the tips of his ears flaming with heat.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He mutters darkly and snatches a fistful of overly salty, kind of stale, popcorn from her vulnerable bag. Allison tilts her head back unashamedly and laughs towards the sky. Stiles ears feel like they are literally going to engulf themselves in flames.

Scott snorts from his other side and elbows him in the ribs. Stiles yelps and glares at him all while chewing popcorn angrily. “Just thought you should know 24 is coming over here.”

“What?!” Stiles head snaps forward and his eyes widen because Derek is in fact walking directly to them and then instead of _them_ it’s just _Stiles_ because Scott and Allison flee the scene, leaving Stiles wishing the field would just open up like The Dark Knight Rises and just swallow him up. He mentally curses Bane for not being their towns homicidal reckoning when he needs it.

“Hey,” Derek greets when he’s finally standing in front of Stiles. And oh how he looks even better up close, all tanned skin with the slight ruddy tint of sunburn, green eyes that are so open and inviting and that smile that’s so white and reminds him of a bunny. Stiles feels like the bones in his knees have suddenly been replaced with jello. He’s never been so tempted to just flee for the hills like he has been at that very moment.

Dumbly he realizes that he still hasn’t said anything and flails a bit before sticking out his hand and gushing, “Hi! Hey, yo! I’m Stiles, great game you played.” Mentally he’s jumping off the tallest building he can imagine because that sounded far lamer than his usual lame.

Derek laughs, his eyebrows doing a little dance of confusion like he wasn’t expecting Stiles to initiate a handshake but slides his hand into Stiles. It’s warm and not sweaty like apparently Stiles own palm is and had the slight scrape of callouses from, what he assumes, is handling a baseball bat so much.

“Derek,” he says after a moment but laughs more to himself than anything, “but I guess you probably already knew that.” Stiles nods and gives a tiny shrug then looks down at their still joined hands. They both realize at the same time and as a pair they drop their hands awkwardly to their sides. Even under Derek’s sunburn his cheeks bloom pink and it makes Stiles melt a little.

“I only know that because of my friends that disappeared into thin air. I don’t really care all that much for baseball.” Stiles admits as he rubs the back of his scorched neck, wincing and mentally tells himself if he _ever_ goes to another baseball game he is dousing himself in sunblock because his creamy delicate skin just is not cut out for this shit, well aside from lacrosse season but that’s completely different.

Derek snorts and tugs on the bill of his cap, his contagious smile growing wider beyond belief. “Wow, someone who isn’t blinded by school spirit or love of baseball, I’m kind of stunned.”

“Lacrosse is more my forte and holds my attention,” Stiles answers right off the bat. “It’s more physical and has more of a point.” That gets Derek’s attention, his eyebrows crawling up to his hairline that’s hidden by his cap. Stiles suddenly wishes he was flexible enough to literally shove his foot into his mouth rather than figuratively.

“Too bad we don’t have a lacrosse team here then because I have a feeling you’d be fierce on the field.”

He shrugs and shifts awkwardly on his feet. “I’m nothing to brag about but I was pretty good back home on my high school team. But if we did have one here it’d be like a gold fish suddenly going up against the sharks.”

Derek laughs at that, a loud and rich sound that wraps around the inside of Stiles mind. He does not whimper. He does _not_.

They fall into a silence and Stiles is slightly panicking over what the flying fuck to say next when Derek pluck his cap off of his head and, dare he say, looks bashfully at him.

“Okay so, the team is kinda heading over to Struts for a celebratory thing. You know, beer and hot wings and loads of food. Usually if the team wins the game we get a super huge discount, let’s them show that they support the Gamecock’s wins and all that….” He trails off running a hand through his still messy hair and to Stiles he looks a little uncomfortable.

“Use your words, Derek.” Stiles says after a few beats too long for comfortable silence. Derek barks out a laugh that has him startled and he must make a face because Derek shakes his head.

“Sorry, that’s just something my sister Laura tells me all the time. I’m not very good with words.”

Stiles grins at him and Derek grins right on back. “So, you were telling me about Struts?”

“Oh! Yeah right, so yeah… discount food and beer with a bunch of loud sweaty baseball players that all of them will most likely have brought their girlfriends to. Wanna go with me?” By now Derek’s face has gone even brighter red enough to tell what his blush is and what is sunburn.

“And you’ll be there?” Stiles ask with a grin. Derek stares at him blankly for a moment before chuckling and nods, surprising Stiles as he plops his red Gamecock baseball cap onto his head. It’s a little damp and cold and gross from Derek’s drying sweat but it makes his stomach do a flop and butterflies absolutely lose their shit.

“I’ll be there if you’ll be there, “Derek says batting the bill of the cap so it covers Stiles eyes. He laughs and turns the cap backwards and beams at him and, even though he refuses to be the _girl_ in any kind of relationship he steps forward and wraps his arms around one of Derek’s.

“Then I’m game.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are pure mana for me!
> 
> And here are a few fun facts for you:  
> 1) Struts is a REAL PLACE here in Alabama, feel free to look it up  
> 2) The Gamecocks are also our very real mascot here at JSU  
> 3) I really know absolutely nothing about baseball  
> 4) Kayla is threatening impending doom upon me if I don't write a second part so I might actually do that.


End file.
